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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23256229">Petrichor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_kiss_already/pseuds/just_kiss_already'>just_kiss_already</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars Prequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Begging, Confusion, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Force Bond (Star Wars), Frottage, Hair-pulling, M/M, Master &amp; Padawan Relationship(s), Sharing a Bed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 05:42:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,944</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23256229</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_kiss_already/pseuds/just_kiss_already</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thunderstorms used to terrifying Anakin when he first came to Coruscant. Over the years, his fear has transformed, thanks to Obi-Wan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Obi-Wan Kenobi &amp; Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>393</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello! Beta’d by my lonesome, please let me know of any mistakes. Rating will go up with subsequent chapters once Anakin is older.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s not as if Anakin is afraid of storms, though they certainly didn’t have this kind when he was still on Tatooine. The pouring rain slashing against the windows of the Jedi temple can be fascinating. Such a simple thing to others but the thought of so much water freely available, coming from the skies, still amazes him even after four years on Coruscant. So no, the rain is not frightening, it’s exciting, it thrills him on the days the WeatherNet decides to have it. The air smells different, especially before and after. It smells as if he’s on another planet entirely. </p>
<p>What disturbs him is the lightning. The violence of it, so brief but so powerful. He knows it’s controlled, the strikes only hit where the WeatherNet permits, but he also knows what can happen on planets where it’s not controlled. Against his better judgement, he researched it, hoping knowledge would dispel his irrational fears. It did not. Stories of surviving lightning strikes did not comfort, though he found himself morbidly fascinated with the way it effects different species. The branching scars like the roots of trees, red on human skin. </p>
<p>Standing at the window of his room in the Jedi temple, Anakin watches the storm raging outside. It’s nighttime, he should be in bed, but this is maybe a kind of training too. It’s so dark out he can barely see the roiling clouds, the rain’s too heavy, but sometimes there’s a furious flash that illuminates everything for a brief second. Too bright. Too much. While Anakin can sympathize—even now feels his own complicated emotions churning within—he still flinches with every flash. And berates himself for every flinch. He’s thirteen now, nearly as tall as Obi-Wan, he should not be scared of something that only frightens toddlers. </p>
<p>It’s been a difficult week, though. After years without them, he’s been plagued by vivid nightmares all week long and his subsequent fatigue has effected his studies and mood. Every day has been a battle, not just with himself but with Obi-Wan. Anakin doesn’t want to fight, he idolizes his master, but it’s so frustrating. Obi-Wan is perfect, so serene and wise. So flawlessly present yet completely detached. Unemotional. Just like every good Jedi. It makes Anakin crazy even on his best days. </p>
<p>A very slight nudge, a wordless question, touches his mind through the force bond with his master. Anakin winces. He always has trouble shielding his mind and emotions, his fear probably bled into their bond and woke Obi-Wan up. Yet another thing he isn’t doing right. He just wanted to prove to himself he could do this one thing, face this one fear, and move beyond it. </p>
<p>Anakin closes his eyes, tries to focus on his breathing to bring it back under control. Once his heart rate dips enough, he sends back a feeling of calmness, or as much of one as he can muster. </p>
<p>Until the crack of thunder that is loud enough to rattle the windows.</p>
<p>Anakin’s knees weaken, the hair on the back of his neck raises, his heart skips a beat then starts racing. Through their bond, a sense of alarm echoes and escalates his own, and Anakin can’t help it. He runs to his master.</p>
<p>Obi-Wan’s door is already open, he’s on his feet about to come find his padawan when Anakin races in and instinctively flings himself against the man, clinging. Staggering under the assault, still half-asleep, Obi-Wan hesitantly rests his hands on the boy’s back. </p>
<p>“What’s this all about?” Obi-Wan asks, though his voice suggests he‘s figured it out.</p>
<p>It’s not fair. Anakin was trying, he could have done it, could have watched the lightning without flinching, but he was distracted. And it wasn’t fair that he was scared of something that gave other padawans even more ammunition to tease him. But he doesn’t say that. Instead Anakin just buries his face against his master’s chest, hiding the wetness of his eyes, holding his breath so it doesn’t hitch in his chest and give him away. </p>
<p>Obi-Wan relaxes, his arms rest on Anakin’s shoulders and he begins to gently pet the boy’s back. “All right, now,” he murmurs. Pleasant warmth fills their bond, fills Anakin’s mind, comforting. </p>
<p>After a few moments, Obi-Wan guides him over to his bed, pulling the sheets back so that Anakin can crawl in before getting in after him. Anakin feels a twinge of embarrassment, he hasn’t slept in his master’s bed since he was little and frightened and missing his mother. But then Obi-Wan settles in, on his side turned away from Anakin, his back broad and steady and comforting. The singular indulgence of it, the way he feels extraordinarily spoiled as he dares to squirm closer to his master, cuddling against his back, it mollifies him. Tension eases out of Anakin as he watches Obi-Wan breathe, his side rising and falling steadily.</p>
<p>The shades are drawn so the lightning is just a glimmer around their edges, the thunder just a background rumble compared to the thumping of Anakin’s own heart. And best of all, his master is warm, chasing away the constant chill he feels on this planet. Now it’s so easy to release the rest of his anxiety, to sigh and let it flow out of him and into the force, leaving only serenity behind. Anakin struggles to stay awake though, desperate to hold morning off a little longer so that he might live in this moment as long as possible. </p>
<p>“It’s all right,” Obi-Wan says unexpectedly over his shoulder. “You did your best. Sleep now, dear one.”</p>
<p>The words pierce Anakin’s heart like a blaster bolt. His master is not the most verbose when it comes to praise; it seems like there is always something Anakin could improve upon no matter what the lesson. But this. Acceptance, praise, affection. Things Anakin stopped expecting from his master long ago, things he never dared to wish for. </p>
<p>Anakin rests his forehead lightly on Obi-Wan’s back, inhaling the smell of him deeply. The pleasant cleanliness of his sleep shirt, the familiar fresh scent of his skin that makes Anakin think of green places. Forests with rich wet earth. </p>
<p>Drifting off, Anakin begins to dream about mossy woods after a rainstorm.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Anakin, eighteen years of age, runs through the streets of Coruscant like an unruly child, grinning maniacally. Pedestrians eye him, irritated, but say nothing once they spy the padawan braid and Jedi robes. The temple is ahead, he’s tempted to use the Force to speed up but suspects it might be felt through his bond with Obi-Wan. He knows what his master would say about it, and he can’t afford to distract Obi-Wan, not today. It’s the Mid-Year Fete at the temple and Master Quinlan goaded Obi-Wan into signing up for the dueling exhibition. Anakin has never seen his master duel, he’s so excited that his heart is in his throat, he wants to laugh for no reason whatsoever. It doesn’t help that there’s a scheduled storm tonight, so the wind is wild, whipping his robes around him, strong enough to feel like a caress on his sweaty face and neck.</p><p>Anakin tried to wake up early to run this errand, but he is just not a morning person. So now he’s going to show up to the Fete dripping and red-faced, in disarray, and won’t Obi-Wan have something to say about that as well. But it doesn’t matter, this was important. Anakin knows Obi-Wan will win the duel, he knows with absolute conviction, and last night he decided he wanted to give Obi-Wan a gift. A reward for winning. The Jedi do not offer medals or trophies, the act done well should be its own reward. That’s all well and good, but Anakin’s heart had soared and his chest tightened when he had the idea, laying in bed, restless as usual.</p><p>(Only when Obi-Wan falls asleep can Anakin drift off, the serenity singing in their bond soothing him.)</p><p>So now, in a pocket on his belt, there is a small gift for Obi-Wan. A beautiful chunk of Stewjon quartz, dark reddish brown shot through with a vivid blue. A token of his high regard, no, more than that, his adoration, a tiny droplet compared to the endless ocean that is his complicated and profound feelings for his master. Anakin keeps a hand on the pouch, afraid of jostling the gift loose.</p><p>In the temple, Master Aayla is by the doors and yells after Anakin, laughing, to slow down and shield himself better. Anakin’s grin falters but he doesn’t slow, in fact the teasing propels him to go faster, his thighs burning. In his excitement, he must have dropped his shields enough that now everyone will be aware of his emotions. Kriff, Obi-Wan must be annoyed. </p><p>Anakin gets to the courtyard with plenty of time, to his relief. He jostles towards the front of the crowd but it doesn’t take much, people are moving out of his way before he even has a chance to open his mouth. They’re sensing him. Kriff! Finally at the front, Anakin tries to center himself, focusing inwardly to work the knots out of his legs and side. As he does so, his control over his shields returns and raises. It might be his imagination, but it seems as if the Jedi closest to him all relax slightly as if everyone released a single held breath.</p><p>Oh, he’s going to get a talking-to from Obi-Wan after the match.</p><p>The current duel ends, Master Plo Koon scores his final point with a shiak mark of contact. It’s an impressive display of precision but Anakin is too excited to care. Obi-Wan is next. </p><p>Obi-Wan is exceptionally skilled at Form VI, a practical form used by Jedi that prefer words over combat. A form that makes heavy use of the Force. A form that is not favored by many padawans because it lacks the flare of others, unfortunately, which is why Obi-Wan decided to showcase it. It will be a thrill to see Obi-Wan flinging Master Quinlan around like a rag doll, a thought Anakin quickly shields and buries. A most un-Jedi-like thought.</p><p>When his master walks out into the courtyard, Anakin feels lightheaded. Obi-Wan’s face is calm but stern as he takes his position at one end of the dueling area; he looks determined and fierce and Anakin’s heart sings: mine. He knows other padawans are jealous of him. Obi-Wan is HIS master, no one else’s, and seeing him out there—eyebrow arched, lightsaber hilt held loosely in his hand—makes him ache to go to his side. Also un-Jedi-like, but Anakin doesn’t care. He’s a padawan, he’s allowed to not have full control of his emotions, or so he tells himself often enough.</p><p>The duel is long. Master Quinlan is a fierce fighter, so different from serene Obi-Wan. Any time Quinlan almost scores a point, Anakin grinds his teeth, and when the Jedi does eventually score one it takes all of Anakin’s willpower to not yell an obscenity. And when Obi-Wan scores one, an unexpected flash of heat races through Anakin’s body, making him shiver. After counterattacking, Obi-Wan moves back into a ready position, swinging his lightsaber at his side in a flourish; Anakin can hear the approving murmurs of the onlookers and another swell of pride and love and heat makes him feel dizzy.</p><p>The wind picks up, the skies darken, the duel finally ends. Obi-Wan wins and while other onlookers seem somewhat surprised—Quinlan is a renowned warrior—Anakin is not. He knew.</p><p>The crowd approaches the two fighters and there is much congratulating, chatting, hand-shaking. Anakin hears Obi-Wan laugh and briefly considers pushing forward—he should be with his master—but instead he feels magnanimous. Let the others have their time with him. Obi-Wan deserves to be recognized by everyone.</p><p>Back in their shared quarters, Anakin changes out of his sweaty robes into new ones, leaving his overtunic off. He keys the window open and leans forward, enjoying the untamed cold blast of air, the light burst of raindrops on his cheeks. The Fete will be moved indoors, there will be a communal dinner that all Jedi are encouraged to join, but Anakin doesn’t care about that. He’s excited about the storm because it’s going to be a brutal one, big enough to potentially cause destruction if people do not properly prepare. </p><p>Big enough for lightning and thunder.</p><p>While Anakin does not relish those in and of themselves, he does relish the results. He will be permitted to show his attachment. He will be permitted to sleep in Obi-Wan’s bed.</p><p>For years now Obi-Wan has permitted Anakin to seek refuge in his bed on nights with bad storms. Anakin expected his master to eventually say enough, no more, you’re too grown, but it never came. Secretly Anakin hopes it means that maybe, just maybe, this is a sign Obi-Wan feels attachment to him, too. It’s become just another part of their life, as normal as when Obi-Wan hands Anakin a mug of Jawa juice fixed just right when his padawan finally wakes up in the morning. Or when Anakin does the washing-up after a meal and sets Obi-Wan’s preferred mug in the very front of the cabinet within easy reach.</p><p>It will go thusly: they will get ready for sleep. Anakin will follow his master into his bedroom. Obi-Wan will get in and hold the sheet up. Anakin will slide in and curl up around Obi-Wan’s back, an arm sneaking around his master’s chest. This is their routine. </p><p>A splatter of rain on his face brings Anakin back to the present and he realizes, to his surprise, he’s panting, his body is tingling, and he is semi-erect. </p><p>It’s the weather, he tells himself. It’s putting him in a strange restless mood. It’s just the weather.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The rain makes a muted percussive noise as it strikes their tent, not quite rhythmic but hypnotic enough to make Anakin drowsy. It drowns out the restless sounds of the camp around them.</p><p>Almost a year of fighting, bouncing between countless planets to face an endless army. He sometimes wonders if it’s better or worse to face a droid army over a living one. A living army is a depletable resource, one that cannot be collected and recycled, one that might turn tail and run in fear instead of killing. Anakin thinks of the clones he’s seen fallen, men under his command. Enough now that he has trouble remembering some of them. Their names escape him and that frightens him. In the beginning, Anakin felt confident in his ability to lead. The number of battles won only bolstered that belief. But now, after the dust has settled, after the bodies have been burned, after the reports have been made... sometimes twenty feels awfully young to be a general.</p><p>Occasionally thunder cracks, distant but sharp, and the entire camp quiets as everyone waits, listening. Fearful. The sound is so familiar, similar to certain large-scale weaponry, so they all hold their breath and wait for a volley. Anakin winces every time, unable to help himself. If they were home, he would curl up next to his master in his comfortable bed and fall blissfully asleep. Unfortunately, their standard-issue sleeping bags are not big enough for two, so he instead stretched his own out, opened and flat on the ground and placed his master’s over top as a blanket. It will do.</p><p>Obi-Wan is tightly shielded at the other end of their Force bond, not uncommon since the war began, but his signature curls around Anakin like heat from a hot bath, soothing. The knots in Anakin’s shoulders loosen as his anxiety dissipates, something that can only happen when they are on a mission together. Apart, Anakin feels torn in half, trying to lead his men while checking Obi-Wan through their bond over and over even in the midst of battle. </p><p>Thunder cracks again and Anakin can almost name what it sounds like-</p><p>Beside him, Obi-Wan flinches and his shields crumble<i>-adrenaline floods Anakin, fear fills his mouth with a sour taste, his heart stutters against his ribs-</i>before being hastily reconstructed. Anakin struggles to inhale, fighting his own body. Beside him, Obi-Wan lays on his side facing away, the familiar lines of his body looking as peaceful as ever. A lie. Trying to parse what just happened, Anakin stares, studying the tousled auburn hair, the pale line of neck leading down into his sleep shirt, the slope of his shoulder. Nothing. No sign of the turmoil inside, the tempest of emotion.</p><p>Rolling onto his side, Anakin scoots closer to Obi-Wan, feels him shrink away before he’s even made physical contact. A hint of shame whispers across their bond and immediately Anakin sends a worried tenderness back, wrapping his flesh arm around his master. He finds Obi-Wan’s hand clutched against his chest and holds it, rubbing his thumb over the knuckles. </p><p>“I’m fine,” Obi-Wan mutters. </p><p>Anakin presses his forehead against the back of Obi-Wan’s head, searching through the smell of mud and ozone and sweat for that gentle green scent. His master’s scent. He can feel the tension in Obi-Wan, it radiates out of every inch of him, rendering his soft and gentle master in hard lines and sharp angles. Anakin exhales and watches his breath stir Obi-Wan’s hair and the shiver that follows with a new keen interest. He’s never seen his master so vulnerable before. It rouses a curiosity in him. He wants to see more. Anakin pries Obi-Wan’s clenched fist open and twines their fingers together, pulling him even closer; Obi-Wan is short and fits perfectly in the cradle of Anakin’s body.</p><p>“Anakin.” Obi-Wan tries to sound firm but his voice is tight. “That’s enough.” The emotions slipping past his fragile shields are strong: confusion, apprehension, worry, and under it all a strong current of need. Anakin smiles, relieved. His master wants to be held. It’s understandable, it wasn’t so long ago that Anakin himself was afraid of lightning and thunder. But in all their years together Anakin has always been the one needing help. Now he can be Obi-Wan’s comfort and see this secret side of his impeccable master.</p><p>Feeling a need to hide his smile, embarrassed at how pleased and strangely excited he is, Anakin buries his face in Obi-Wan’s neck, rubbing his nose against the soft skin behind his ear. His lips graze skin and Obi-Wan startles. Anakin whispers through their bond, it’s okay, it’s safe, we’re safe together. Without meaning to he lets slip a swelling wave of his adoration and that opens the way. Anakin’s own shields are always flimsy, soon the ocean of his feelings is spilling through to Obi-Wan, making his master gasp loud enough to be heard over the thunder that booms more regularly as the storm rolls closer.</p><p>It feels good, so good to release those feelings. It’s a relief. Silent confession of the sin of attachment. Anakin sags against Obi-Wan’s back, sighing, body pliant. His smile widens and he licks his lips, accidentally swiping the tip of his tongue along Obi-Wan’s skin. Perhaps not so accidentally. </p><p>A small sound escapes Obi-Wan. Anakin thrills at it, eyes widening. It’s a fascinating sound, one he’s never heard before. He wants to hear it again. Anakin licks up Obi-Wan’s neck to his ear, runs his tongue along the shell. His master inhales sharply and twitches, pressing his body further back into Anakin’s as if to sink into him. A pleasing development.</p><p>“Master.” He wants Obi-Wan more involved, he wants to tease him until he responds. They used to play-fight when Anakin was a child, tussling in their quarters, laughing and yelling and rolling until they were both bruised and red-faced and gasping for air. He wants that, he wants to wrestle Obi-Wan and pin him down. For now though he just wants to hear that lovely voice. “Master.” Still no response, so Anakin bites his earlobe. Not hard, more a nibble that anything. </p><p>It gets a response. Obi-Wan whines, body shuddering in his arms. He doesn’t say stop, though. And he doesn’t pull away.</p><p>Grinning, heart racing, Anakin nibbles again, this time his neck, sucking lightly and tasting salt. Obi-Wan’s skin is so soft under the tip of his tongue. When he sees the mottled mark he’s left behind, a thrill runs through him. He’ll cover his master in them, he decides, that way everyone will know Obi-Wan is his. Nudging the neck of the sleep shirt out of the way, Anakin sucks down Obi-Wan’s neck and onto his shoulder in a line. When he’s done, five beautiful red marks decorate his skin like some kind of jewelry. To celebrate, Anakin bites the junction of neck and shoulder. Hard.</p><p>He feels the bright flash of some unidentified emotion like lightning over their bond and he knows something is wrong before Obi-Wan even pulls away. There’s a chance he’s pushed too far, though Anakin is almost certain he sensed Obi-Wan welcomed the rough handling. His master squirms away from him, out from under the blanket, but doesn’t get far; for once Anakin is happy for the small size of the army-issue tents. </p><p>Sitting up, Obi-Wan curls inwards, arms hugging himself, panting. “You mustn’t,” he forces out from behind what sounds like gritted teeth. “It’s not proper. You were my padawan, Anakin!”</p><p>Propping himself up on his elbow, Anakin frowns, confused. They were playing. Roughhousing. And he is very nearly certain he felt positive emotions from behind Obi-Wan’s mental walls, not the fear and tension from earlier. After all their years together, Anakin can sort through his master’s emotions better than his own, so he tentatively reaches out through their bond. On the surface there is a thin veneer of guilt. But beneath it: Exasperation tempered by affection. Surprise. Happiness.</p><p>Pleasure.</p><p>Anakin’s pulse gallops, his breath quickens. He knows that last one well from nights spent alone in his bed, struggling to ignore that feeling, reciting the Jedi code to himself. </p><p>And now he knows what he wants.</p><p>Anakin is acquainted with the basics of sex, it is taught very clinically to all padawans. He’s also seen it during missions and on datapads the other padawans would secretively gather around, giggling. But to engage in it himself. With his master. The thrill he feels at the thought is so strong he is momentarily paralyzed. He wants it. He wants to feel Obi-Wan, wants to touch his bare skin, wants to leave marks everywhere, wants to press bruises into his skin with his fingers. He needs.</p><p>Still reeling with the possibilities that lay before him, Anakin sits up and crowds behind Obi-Wan, pulling him between his legs, draping himself over his master’s back. “Master,” he whispers, pressing kisses to Obi-Wan’s neck. Anakin lets down his mental walls purposefully now, sending another flood, this time one of passion, of desire. Through their bond he sends the way Obi-Wan’s pale skin feels under his hands as he sneaks them up under the hem of his shirt. The way his warmth soaks into Anakin’s chest, chasing away fatigue and chills. The way his skin tastes and smells, the way he fits perfectly against him and always has. The way Obi-Wan’s body pressed against his own makes him aroused and hungry.</p><p>“Force!” Obi-Wan groans. One of his hands comes back, grips a fistful on Anakin’s hair. The pull makes his cock twitch. Obi-Wan slides his other hand over top of Anakin’s where it rests on his stomach, guides it down; Anakin’s fingers brush against Obi-Wan’s erection and they both inhale sharply. “We... we shouldn’t, dear one. The Code...” Obi-Wan mutters even as he pulls Anakin’s hair harder, guiding him back to his neck. Anakin takes the hint, begins nibbling and kissing, overjoyed. Curious about his master’s cock, he tests it through the thin fabric of his sleep pants, gently squeezing before teasingly sliding his fingertips up and down.</p><p>“I don’t care about what we should or shouldn’t do,” Anakin murmurs into the other man’s ear. “I need you, Master. Let me make you feel good.” Carefully he adjusts, pulling Obi-Wan back onto their makeshift bed, laying him down. He wants to see his master’s body, he decides, so he grabs the hem of Obi-Wan’s shirt and pulls it up. He emerges from the material blushing and disheveled, hair falling across his forehead. Anakin pauses, briefly awestruck by the sight. “Kriff, you’re beautiful.”</p><p>Obi-Wan’s blush deepens and he rises enough to grab a handful of Anakin’s curls, pulling him down into a kiss. As they kiss, Anakin lets his hands wander, following the line of his clavicle, the swell of his pectoral, cupping the socket of his shoulder, tracing a circle around his nipple. Obi-Wan gasps into his mouth when Anakin pinches that tender flesh. Trapped by Obi-Wan’s grip, Anakin briefly entertains the idea of his master pinning him down, doing whatever he pleases to Anakin’s helpless body. The idea has merit and he files it away to be explored more thoroughly later.</p><p>Anakin pulls his own shirt off then lowers himself over Obi-Wan, marveling at the sensation of bare skin to bare skin. “Oh,” he sighs as his master nuzzles against his neck. He likes kissing, he decides, and tilts Obi-Wan’s face up to capture his lips. As they kiss, Anakin studies what Obi-Wan does and tries to mimic it, opening his mouth the same way, moving at the same time. It’s an easy enough rhythm after a minute, so he runs his hand back down to Obi-Wan’s cock, squeezing more firmly this time, and his master thrusts up into his hand. Obi-Wan lowers his shields intentionally and Anakin is dazzled by the fiery intensity he receives. Obi-Wan wants and just as badly as Anakin. He wants this with an urgency bordering on panic.</p><p>They can wait no longer, so Anakin slides his hand into Obi-Wan’s sleep pants. His cock feels fascinating, the skin like silk, and when he squeezes it Obi-Wan makes the most beautiful noises. </p><p>“Anakin,” Obi-Wan pants, “slow down, let me- oh Force- please-“</p><p>Anakin pauses but keeps kissing Obi-Wan, he just can’t help it. He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to stand being around him and not touch. Picturing walking down the temple halls hand in hand, he is brought back to the present when Obi-Wan pushes him onto his back. Surprise quickly turns to lust as he watches his master work his way down Anakin’s chest with his mouth and tongue. </p><p>Obi-Wan tugs lightly on Anakin’s pants, licking the strip of skin revealed, following the hip bone down. He continues tugging, pressing wet kisses further down until he’s able to mouth Anakin’s cock through the thin fabric. Head falling back against the pillow for a moment, Anakin can’t even think clearly enough to curse. Obi-Wan looks sexier than any of Anakin’s dreams were ever able to conjure. One more tug and Anakin’s dick is freed, wet at the tip; Obi-Wan licks that droplet and begins to mouth at it, shallowly taking just the head into his mouth and lightly sucking.</p><p>“Kriff! Ah-!” Anakin tries to keep quiet, it’s so hard, the sensation is so good, so intense. Without thinking, he grabs a fistful of Obi-Wan’s auburn hair and forces it down as he thrusts up. Encased in that wet heat, Anakin holds perfectly still, aware of his imminent orgasm. His eyes meet Obi-Wan’s. “You’re so beautiful,” Anakin whimpers. “My Master.”</p><p>At that word, Obi-Wan’s eyes darken. A kind of perverse arousal floods their bond and Anakin grins.</p><p>“Do you like that, being called ‘master’ even now?” A low pleased rumble vibrates around Anakin’s cock and Obi-Wan’s mouth begins to move up and down with a filthy wet sound. Anakin tenses, struggling to hold himself back. All he wants is to hold Obi-Wan’s head still and fuck up into that heat. </p><p>Pulling off, ignoring Anakin’s groan, Obi-Wan crawls up until he is laying atop the younger man, their bodies lined up. With a thrust of his hips, Obi-Wan’s cock slides wetly against Anakin’s, slick from his saliva and their precum.</p><p>“Master!” Anakin whines. It’s even better this way. He can stare all he wants at Obi-Wan, study every inch of his beautiful face shamelessly. </p><p>Again Obi-Wan’s hand finds its way into Anakin’s hair, clutching, pulling his head back and exposing his neck. “Anakin, dear one,” Obi-Wan pants, thrusting again, then again. “I’ve longed for this, I shouldn’t, oh Force forgive me, I’ve dreamt of touching you-“</p><p>“Yes-“ Anakin writhes under Obi-Wan, needing friction. “Please, more!”</p><p>Obi-Wan shudders and begins to thrust in earnest now, driving Anakin mad. Leaning down, Obi-Wan kisses him before commanding in his ear, “Beg, darling.”</p><p>“Please!” A heat has been building low in Anakin’s torso, a tension that makes his toes curl, and it’s threatening to overwhelm him. “Please, Master, let me cum!”</p><p>Eyelashes fluttering, Obi-Wan groans against Anakin’s neck, hips losing their rhythm as wet heat spatters across Anakin’s stomach. </p><p>He made his master cum. Him. He aroused Obi-Wan so much that- pleased him so much- his master wants him, needs him- Obi-Wan- Anakin tenses, it feels like every muscle in his body clenches, and he cums, chanting Obi-Wan’s name over and over in his mind.</p><p>As the aftershocks begin to fade, Anakin wraps his arms around Obi-Wan, feverishly kissing that beloved face. Over their bond, Anakin can feel contentment and happiness and the endless warmth of love. So much love.</p><p>Outside their tent, the storm rages on. And inside, for a moment, everything is peaceful.</p>
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